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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010196">Marvelous</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshAndSnow/pseuds/AshAndSnow'>AshAndSnow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Although one is a natural death after a long life, Angst, Brothers, Character Death, Dancing, Frostiron is the main ship, Gossip, Grief/Mourning, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Illnesses, Loki (Marvel)-centric, Loki sleeps around, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Sad, Strip Poker, Swearing, Wakes &amp; Funerals, Weddings, a dog has its fur dyed, ambiguous time period, and has a great time doing it, except it's strip blackjack, so make of that what you will, which according to my research can be done without harm to the dog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:47:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshAndSnow/pseuds/AshAndSnow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki was by and large a perfectly regular and anonymous guy. Until he met one Tony Stark.</p><p>Or: A loose adaptation of the last great american dynasty, but starring Loki instead of Rebekah Harkness.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brief Loki/Clint Barton, Frigga | Freyja &amp; Loki (Marvel), Implied Loki/Others, Implied Loki/Stephen Strange, Implied Loki/T'Challa, Loki &amp; Thor (Marvel), Loki/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Marvelous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Honestly, I just listened to ”the last great american dynasty”, read a bit up on the story behind it, and had the immense urge to write about Loki seducing a rich man, get up to all sorts of scandals, and live his best, most eccentric life. This feels like a very niche fic, but if it sounds like it's your speed, I hope you'll like this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>i.</p><p>The sun was shining and Loki felt himself relax for the first time in a month.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a rough few months. Years. Hell, a rough life. Learning of his adoption, the way his family had internally imploded while everyone kept a smile firmly fixed on their faces to keep anyone from suspecting a thing, and now his ugly divorce from his first husband. (Most people might not think of their first husband as such until they get a new one, but Loki was Loki, and he liked the theatrics of it).</p><p> </p><p>But now. Now, he had hope that things were getting better. He’d finalized the papers, it had been two weeks since he’d last seen any of his family members, and he’d settled for enough money to buy himself a vacation home on the coast. It was tiny, nothing special really, but it was right on the beach, plenty of access to fresh air and endless blue water. It was a place to go, to get away from everything, to be himself. And, most importantly, it was wholly and entirely his own.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even care he had to take a train out there until he could get his hands on a decent car. He didn’t care that he still had his work in the city. He didn’t even care that it was only a matter of time before his wretched family came knocking and demanded he put on a nice suit and his best smile for some event or other.</p><p> </p><p>Today, the sun was shining, the train was taking him to his new little box of a beach house, and he was genuinely happy for the first time in forever.</p><p> </p><p>Loki knew something wonderful had to be coming.</p><p> </p><p>ii.</p><p>Of all the many kind of parties his family enjoyed dragging him to, charity balls were the worst.</p><p> </p><p>Loki wasn’t inherently against charity. But he did so loathe having to watch others make a grandiose spectacle of what good people they were, and oh, won’t you come be a good person too for the low low price of just one ticket for our big to-do?</p><p> </p><p>A party, Loki could get behind. One where he had to pay to get in, and then stand around and be somber about the state of the Eurasian Fleetfoot Flowerpetal Monkeycat or whatever the hell the topic was? What was the point?<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>In Loki’s humble opinion, he could be good and he could be partying. He wasn’t so sure he could do both at once.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh, Loki,” Frigga had sighed when he’d told her as much, smoothing his hair in that motherly way she’d had a habit of doing since he was a small child. ”You’re not nearly as cold as you want everyone to think, my darling boy. Come now. Everyone else thinks a charity ball is a lark.”</p><p> </p><p>That had been two weeks ago, when she’d first asked him to come. Eventually, he’d given in. There was little his mother couldn’t convince him to do, given enough time alone with him.</p><p> </p><p>Which was why he found himself sorely surprised when a <em>very</em> handsome man – warm eyes, bright smile, older than Loki – sidled up to him at the bar and had asked ”I’m not sorry to interrupt your brooding, but is this the meeting point for guests who’ve been dragged here against their will? Because I’m looking for it. Pep told me I’d enjoy it, and that she’d stab me with her stiletto heel if I didn’t show up and behave, but so far, neither’s happened.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki took one look at the man – Tony Stark, of Stark Industries, the man wasn’t doing a damn thing to try and hide it – and let a slow smirk spread on his face.</p><p> </p><p>”You found it. Looks like it’s just the two of us at this meeting, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony looked Loki up and down. ”Even better.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki’s grin widened.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>iii</p><p>The gossips had a field day when they discovered Loki and Tony were together.</p><p> </p><p>Everywhere Loki turned, whispers followed. Bored housewives and front pages alike, they all speculated wildly about the nature of their relationship. Because they were both men. Because Tony was older and richer and famous, and Loki was from a nice family, but a black sheep and a divorcé.</p><p> </p><p>Of the many theories they spouted, Loki never once heard or read anyone suggest that maybe, just maybe, they were together because they were a good fit and they loved each other.</p><p> </p><p>”I just don’t understand how he did it,” he heard one time while waiting for his name to be called at Tony’s favourite local cafés (He’d lost a bet in bed last night, and had been doomed to get up early and pick up coffee). ”Tony Stark, of all people, snagged by some wild child from the city.”</p><p> </p><p>”Who knows? My Mia was heartbroken when she found out, Tony’d been dancing with her at the last three charity balls before <em>he</em> showed up.” (It was all Loki could do not to snort. He knew all about this woman’s precious Mia. He wondered what she’d say if Loki told her she ought to have taught her the meaning of no – judging by the way she’d seemed blind to Tony’s rejections, and the way she seemed incapable of turning down an offer of a line of nose candy, Mia was a Yes Girl through and through).</p><p> </p><p>”I think this Loki Laufeyson is taking advantage of him,” the first woman said, firmly and decidedly, as if her opinion could be made fact through sheer force of will. ”Something’s not right.”<br/>
<br/>
”Loki Laufeyson?”</p><p> </p><p>The two women immediately looked up, a hint of guilt settling on their faces. Or… not guilt so much as the shame of having been caught. They didn’t feel bad that they’d been blabbering about him. They were only displeased that they’d been overheard in public. Image was, after all, king.</p><p> </p><p>Loki went up to the counter to pick up his order, then turned a perfectly charming smile on them.<br/>
<br/>
”If it eases your mind,” he told them, just before he winked and sauntered out of the store, leaving them gaping and red faced in his wake, ”I let him take plenty advantage of me in return.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>iv</p><p>The wedding was nothing short of spectacular, in Loki’s not so humble opinion.</p><p> </p><p>His first wedding hadn’t been much, a trip to the courthouse and a nice dinner with their loved ones. He hadn’t been old or mature enough to stand up for himself quite yet; and so, in an attempt to appease his parents, shocked that Loki’d settle for a man, and a middle class one no less, he’d allowed them to pay for the wedding and set the terms for how it went down.</p><p> </p><p>This time, Loki needed neither cash nor approval.</p><p> </p><p>That didn’t stop people from talking, he knew.</p><p> </p><p>”I thought the choice of music for the ceremony was a bit too traditional, they could have chosen something different.”</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll say, when Mia gets married, I’d never let her get away with such gauche wedding favours, it’s not classy to brag that you’re marrying rich, and that’s what he’s doing, he’s just flaunting his new wealth in everyone’s faces.”</p><p> </p><p>”Look at those bridesmaids, they look like such hussies. Are they really the sort of friends he keeps?”</p><p> </p><p>”What’s wrong with a classic white cake?”</p><p> </p><p>As if they wouldn’t all have found a way to tear the wedding down if Tony and Loki had gone exactly the route they acted like they wanted to. Everyone knew distaste was far more palatable if you pretended it could have been different. That it was easier to complain if you acted like they were the problem and not you.</p><p> </p><p>”Hey.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki turned his head to meet Tony’s warm, brown eyes. The chatter surrounding them on the dance floor melted away, and Loki was once more aware of nothing outside the protective circle of his now-husband’s arms around him. ”Hm?”</p><p> </p><p>”Let them talk.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony – darling, wonderful, incredible Tony – hadn’t needed much to guess where Loki’s attention had wandered.</p><p> </p><p>And Tony was right. Fuck them all. Loki’d long since learned he could do no right.</p><p> </p><p>Why not make sure he had the most fun possible doing wrong?</p><p> </p><p>”Better yet,” Loki grinned. ”Give them a show.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony’s smile widened, and he pulled Loki closer, launching into a far more rambunctious dance, twirlingand dipping Loki as they whirled around the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Let everyone call them gauche. Let everyone condemn their flamboyancy. Let everyone wrinkle their nose and say they were too ’out there’.</p><p> </p><p>Loki was too busy laughing to care.</p><p> </p><p>v</p><p>”So what do you think?”<br/>
<br/>
They’d been living in Tony’s house for a while at this point, but that was exactly the issue. It still felt like ’Tony’s house’. Loki hadn’t even sold his tiny little box of a home. Not because he doubted his marriage to Tony, not out of some misplaced sense of independence, and not because he thought he needed a place to go in case of anything. No, Loki was certain about his marriage and their ability to weather whatever came their way. And just because Tony was paying for the party, there was no way in hell that that meant Tony was in any way in control of Loki.</p><p> </p><p>(The woman Loki had not so affectionately started to refer to only as Mia’s Mom had once asked Tony how he ever planned to reign Loki in. Tony’d laughed and asked why he would ever want to do such a thing.)<br/>
<br/>
(Loki had never loved Tony more than when he saw the priceless look on Mia’s Mom’s face.)</p><p> </p><p>So, they’d agreed that picking a house together was the move. A place that felt like it belonged to them both. And while they’d both been searching for options, Tony’d been the one who’d actually found something worth looking at.</p><p> </p><p>They’d just finished the tour of this mansion. It was huge, full of endless halls and infinite bedrooms and places to host the most delightful parties. It had an enormous kitchen, an indoor as well as an outdoor pool, gardens with numerous nooks and crannies.</p><p> </p><p>And best of all was the breathtaking view of the ocean.</p><p> </p><p>The house was up high on the cliffs, with a private staircase down to an equally private stretch of the beach. It was the perfect blend of privacy and luxury, and the view….</p><p> </p><p>Gods, the view. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off it.</p><p> </p><p>”It’s perfect,” he said. No other fanfare. What else was there to say?<br/>
<br/>
Judging by Tony’s widening grin, he had expected as much. That didn’t make him less pleased. Loki’d never stop loving how eager Tony was to make him happy and make sure his every whim was seen to.</p><p> </p><p>”Perfect,” Tony declared, swooping in to plant a wet, noise kiss on Loki’s cheek. It was terribly graceless. Loki couldn’t quite bring himself to care. ”I knew you’d love it.”<br/>
<br/>
”Of course I do. Our perfect holiday house.”<br/>
<br/>
Tony rose a brow at him. It was an expression he’d picked up from Loki. ”Holiday house?”</p><p> </p><p>Loki shrugged. ”Yes. Because living here, you and I, we’ll never get bored or stuck in routine. We’ll host parties every day, and the neighbors will gossip and the front pages won’t be able to keep up. It’ll be like one long, endless vacation.” What a darling prospect. Loki was practically purring at the thought.<br/>
<br/>
Routine. Who needed it, when one had the option to live as wonderfully, wildly, and extravagantly as they? They were invincible, immortal, everlasting. Nothing could touch them.</p><p> </p><p>Or so it felt.</p><p> </p><p>”Holiday House,” Tony repeated, slowly, as if tasting and testing the words. ”Well… I suppose any good house needs a name.”<br/>
<br/>
It hadn’t been his intention to name the house, but it was fitting. When Tony grinned at him, looking for approval and getting it when Loki smiled back, the deal was settled.</p><p> </p><p>They were beautiful and infinite and forever.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>vi</p><p>A year into their marriage, Tony was diagnosed with a heart disease. Two years into their marriage, Tony’s health slowly started declining.</p><p> </p><p>Their third anniversary had been spent in a hospital room.</p><p> </p><p>Tony would have wanted Loki to remember the good times. He wouldn’t have wanted Loki to think of him, sick and drawn in that starkly white bed. And yet, staring at his deceased husband, lying in his coffin (dark red and gold, Tony’s favourite colors, a little bit of life – Tony’d picked it himself, a little extravagance even in death), that third anniversary was where Loki’s mind went.</p><p> </p><p>(”You should head home. Get some sleep. You’ve been here all day, Lokes.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki’d shaken his head. ”It would be pointless. I can’t sleep when I worry about you here.” Which had been a mild way of putting it. Loki could have looked past the fact that the house was far too big and lonely just for him if it could have in any way helped Tony to do so. But every time he had been away, Tony had still stolen his focus. Was he alone? Hungry? Did he need something? Was he scared, sad, lonely?</p><p> </p><p>Loki had never explained himself in so much detail to Tony. Tony’d known anyway.</p><p> </p><p>So much for trying to spare him the weight of Loki’s worries.</p><p> </p><p>Tony’d reached out to stroke Loki’s cheek. His hand had been dry, rasping like paper against Loki’s skin. ”Smile, babe.”<br/>
<br/>
Loki had resisted the urge to snort. ”Why? There’s nothing to smile about.”<br/>
<br/>
Tony hadn’t been put off by that. His grin had been as dazzling as ever, and Loki’d leaned into the hand on his face, seeking comfort and assurance. Tony was yet here. Tony was yet his. ”It’s our anniversary, Lokes. Three years.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Loki had closed his eyes. It had been easier to travel back in time like that, to pretend they were elsewhere and not perched on Tony’s sick bed. ”Three years since either of us last attended a party without doing something scandalous.”</p><p> </p><p>”Babe, we married each other. I’m pretty sure that alone counts as a scandal.”<br/>
<br/>
As Tony had undoubtedly known, that would startle a laugh out of Loki, and when Loki’d opened his eyes, Tony had been grinning right back. Proud. Happy. Looking like his former self for a while.<br/>
<br/>
”If you’re quite finished riling up a heart patient,” a sour voice had sounded behind them. They’d both turned their heads to look at the nurse who’d just entered, a clear and judgmental expression on her face. ”Maybe it’s time for you to go home. You’re not doing Mr. Stark any favours like this.”</p><p> </p><p>By the end of the week, whispers had crept all over town, letting everyone know how utterly disrespectful Loki had been. Laughing at his dying husband’s bedside. Like he didn’t even <em>care</em>.)</p><p> </p><p>Loki knew people were still talking. Like it was his fault, like he’d done something. At best, rumours claimed he hadn’t been cautious enough with Tony’s frail heart. At worst, low murmurs wondered at the convenience of the inheritance and the enormous pay out from life insurance.</p><p> </p><p>Loki didn’t tell any of them that he’d donated that particular check to research in heart diseases. Facts didn’t interest them anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Still, knowing the rumours wasn’t the same as actively overhearing them. And so he was in for a nasty, jarring shock when a woman somewhere behind him proclaimed ”it must have been that Loki’s fault his heart gave out.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki’s vision went red. They were still at the funeral, for gods’ sakes! Whatever she thought of him, could she not at least show Tony enough respect that she not gossip and slander the bereaved husband? Did she have to hog the spotlight and steal the attention, when a man had <em>died</em> and deserved to be honored one last time?</p><p> </p><p>Without thinking, Loki spun around and poured his drink over the offender’s head. Gasps followed, and then silence. Loki couldn’t tell if his ears were ringing and blocking out the sound, or if the whole room had seen and gone quiet.</p><p> </p><p>At any rate, the only sound that followed him, as he stormed from the room, was the sound of his glass hitting the floor.</p><p> </p><p>vii</p><p> </p><p>Loki and Tony had never bought Holiday House for it to simply stand there and look pretty. It was beautiful, sure, but massive. Designed for people to live in and have fun in.</p><p> </p><p>So in the wake of Tony’s death, once Loki finally figured out how to leave his bed for more than a few hours at a time, Loki picked up his phone, dialed up all his friends from the city, and invited them to come stay with him for as long as they wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Naturally, this became the beginning of an endless, vicious cycle of gosssip gossip gossip.</p><p> </p><p>”Darling,” Loki’d told Amora and kissed her cheek, when she as the first one arrived at the mansion. ”I’m glad to see you here.”<br/>
<br/>
”Oh, honey, of course. You can’t stay here in this big house by yourself. If I get the lounge by a pool for free and cheer up my grieving friend at the same time, it’s a win-win.”</p><p> </p><p>By the end of the week, Loki’s friends had all arrived, and the front pages had dubbed Loki and his girls The Bitch Pack. The truly quite innocent picture of Loki greeting a friend had taken on a much more salacious life as the very representation of Loki Laufeyson, recent and unapologetic widow.</p><p> </p><p>Loki’d been so pissed off by the baseless speculations of what Tony would have to say about such scandalous disrespect that he’d hosted a party that same night. A party that had made the gossip rags go wild, wondering if this was proof he’d never loved Tony at all. In turn, Loki’d cheerfully given several paparazzi a bright smile and the finger when he’d invited all sorts of grand names in the arts to come for a week long bash at his home.</p><p> </p><p>And so it went, on and on.</p><p> </p><p>The usual blabbermouths in the neighborhood, people who had been at his and Tony’s wedding for gods’ sakes, weren’t any better. Some pretended to pity him to his face, while others were at least honest with their scathing looks and scowls. But none of them fooled him. They’d never approved. They’d never given him a chance.</p><p> </p><p>He owed neither hags nor rags nothing. They had no right to his sorrow. He didn’t owe them proof of his mourning. And even had he provided it, had he let them in to witness the hours and hours he had cried himself to exhaustion, they would have scoffed at his inability to keep it together, would have accused him of nothing but performance. They hid behind the memory of Tony, asking ”is that what your husband would have wanted?” as if they wouldn’t have asked the same thing no matter what. As if they weren’t the ones shitting all over his memory by tailoring it to fit their agenda of tearing down the man who had loved and known Tony better than anyone else.</p><p> </p><p>Still, they took and took and took. And if he did not give them willingly, they would either steal a story or make one up.</p><p> </p><p>So Loki continued to host his parties for the better part of the creative layers of society, still gifting photographers with a smile and a fuck you.</p><p> </p><p>He refused to let them have his hurt and twist it into something ugly. Let them think what they wanted about this instead.<br/>
<br/>
What did he care? He owed them fucking nothing.</p><p> </p><p>viii</p><p> </p><p>Life was significantly more fun after that.</p><p> </p><p>It became a game to Loki to piss off the press and the busybodies. And one that never ceased to amuse him. The more scandalized his neighbors were, the more the media talked about him, the more extravagant and eccentric Loki’s behaviour got.</p><p> </p><p>When they said he was disrespectful of his husband’s memory, Loki threw a party.</p><p> </p><p>When they said he was wasteful, he filled a pool with champagne.</p><p> </p><p>When they said he was a maneater, he’d find whatever handsome poet or writer or painter or actor of the hour and date them for a week or two.</p><p> </p><p>When they said he was a golddigger, he’d replaced all his toiletbrush holders and soap dispensers with ones of solid golid.</p><p> </p><p>And when they said that he should do something useful with his wealth, he’d bought a whole ballet troupe and made them practice on his front lawn while the building housing their stages and practice studios underwent extensive renovations.</p><p> </p><p>He’d never married Tony for the money. It was nice, convenient, sure, but Loki’d loved Tony. The money hadn’t mattered to either of them. If anything, Tony’d been even more fond of spending than Loki had. He wouldn’t have rested any easier in his grave just because he knew Loki was saving it. And Tony had known better than most that there was simply no pleasing the public.</p><p> </p><p>Spending it so frivolously to spite the world when they scoffed at him felt like a quiet, rebellious tribute to the lover he’d lost too soon. And whenever anyone ever went ”shouldn’t you spend your money a little more wisely?”, Loki just laughed in their faces and bought himself another painting that would never leave the attic.</p><p> </p><p>ix</p><p>Of course Loki didn’t remain celibate after Tony’s death. But he also never took on another relationship.</p><p> </p><p>What he did instead was take lovers for a for a few days or weeks. A whole month, maybe, if a man turned out to be particularly entertaining. The more scandalous the affair, the better. Some of his favourites so far included Prince T’Challa of Wakanda, Stephen Strange (who, Loki knew, had once been a world famous surgeon, but was now some sort of performer, Loki hadn’t really been listening), and Wilhelm van Vile, a painter who’d become a shining star after he’d had the press going wild for his work in the past few years.</p><p> </p><p>Olympian archer, Clint Barton, turned out to be particularly entertaining.</p><p> </p><p>”I can tell you’re counting the cards, you know,” he said, during a game of strip blackjack. They hadn’t been able to find the set of chips Loki knew was hiding somewhere in the house, so he’d suggested this as an alternative. Clint had only been too happy to agree.</p><p><br/>
Despite Loki’s call out, his grin didn’t carry any accusation.</p><p> </p><p>”What does it matter?” Clint complained, stripping out of his shirt. ”So are you. And you’re winning.”<br/>
<br/>
Loki’s grin widened. ”So it seems,” he agreed, neither bothering to deny it, nor hide the way he was eyeing his current partner’s well sculpted torso.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh, please.” The other man rolled his eyes. ”If you have a type, your type definitely knows how to count cards. Wasn’t Tony MIT? Isn’t there a whole movie about MIT kids counting cards?”<br/>
<br/>
He wasn’t wrong. Tony’d been the one to teach Loki how to count cards, in fact.</p><p> </p><p>That didn’t prevent his smile from sliding right off. It was an unspoken rule that Tony wasn’t up for discussion. He couldn’t prevent others from treating his lost husband’s name like a vessel for mud to sling at Loki, but he could make damn sure it was kept sacred in his own damn home.</p><p> </p><p>In <em>Tony’s</em> own damn home.</p><p> </p><p>Within 24 hours, Clint had been sent packing.</p><p> </p><p>x</p><p>Another day, another gossip rag having a go at Loki.</p><p> </p><p>On a stroll around the garden, Loki was walking along the very perimeter of his property, idly watching the dancers practice.</p><p> </p><p>He did so enjoy the combination of watching the arts, taking in the fresh air, and being left the fuck alone.</p><p> </p><p>But of course he couldn’t be left alone in his own garden either.</p><p> </p><p>”That’s what I read,” he heard, a feminine voice coming closer. Loki turned his head, only to spot a couple walking, passing his home on the way to wherever they were going. ”That he’s gone crazy. Positively mad. That he’s the most shameless, scandalous thing this town has ever seen.”</p><p> </p><p>The woman’s companion didn’t answer. He’d spotted Loki before his lady friend, and he was nudging her. A bit to keep her quiet, no doubt intended to be subtle.</p><p> </p><p>Too bad it failed.</p><p> </p><p>The woman looked at her partner, then followed his gaze towards Loki and proceeded to go beet red.</p><p> </p><p>Loki just smiled sweetly and waved. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t entirely true.</p><p> </p><p>xi</p><p>The easy access to the sea and the many cliffs surrounding the property had been a big part of the reason Loki and Tony’d bought Holiday House. Loki’d loved the easy access to nature, the salt air, the way the ocean brought him peace – as if the waves crashing prevented him from doing the same.</p><p> </p><p>Tony, however, had always loved a good view more than anything.</p><p> </p><p>(”Why do you think I fell in love with you?” he’d liked to tease, and it had never failed to make Loki huff with annoyance and remind Tony that it was a stupid and worn joke. Which just made Tony laugh and kiss his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>There was nothing Loki wouldn’t do to hear Tony make that joke at him again.)</p><p> </p><p>After Tony’s death, Loki’d taken to wandering the cliffs when he couldn’t sleep. Searching, perhaps, for a way to stay connected to him. Wondering what this view had brought him, while finding the calm and quiet that had never failed to do Loki himself a world of good.</p><p> </p><p>It was four in the morning. Not an unusual time for Loki to slide out of bed, leaving his latest conquest behind. Typically, he’d go earlier in the night, or on occasion he’d go later still to take in the very first hints of the dawning day on the sky. But four was not an unusual time for him to be wandering the cliffs all the same. As long as it was too late or too early for anyone else to be out, Loki would take it.</p><p> </p><p>Which was why it surprised him so when someone else was out and about on that particular morning.</p><p> </p><p>Trusting completely that he’d be left alone, just like he was always left alone on these nightly walks, he’d been staring unseeingly out onto the restless ocean, arms wrapped tight around him. A few tears were streaking down his face, but he wasn’t aware of them until a dog’s bark, mere feet behind him, startled him back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>Whirling around, instinctively wiping his eyes, Loki’s eyes landed on a dog. Big, with the ugliest curly fur he had ever seen, and not particularly cute.<br/>
<br/>
When his eyes travelled further upwards and landed on the woman he still to this day referred to solely as Mia’s Mom, he found his explanation. There was a saying about owners, dogs, and likenesses, after all.</p><p> </p><p>”I’m sorry,” Mia’s Mom spoke, and Loki was stunned to find that she sounded like she meant it. ”My husband and I have a meeting in town, we have to leave early, I have to walk the dog myself today before we leave. I really didn’t mean to frighten you.”</p><p> </p><p>She seemed more approachable, alone like this. Like the armor of all her bitchy friends had been stripped away, and she was just a normal woman like anyone. It occurred to Loki that she existed outside of the person she was in his head. She was someone’s mother, someone’s wife. People called her a friend. Maybe she volunteered, and maybe she did so because she genuinely cared. Maybe she baked and had an incredibly but incredibly secret family recipe for hot chocolate.</p><p> </p><p>All this time, she’d been just as human as he. All this time, neither had realized the other was as real as they.</p><p> </p><p>Loki didn’t know what to do with it. It was jarring and grating, and it made him want to grind his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>”Are you well, dear?” she asked, and she sounded worried. Genuinely so. ”Do you need me to call someone for you? Would you like me to walk you home?”</p><p> </p><p>Loki couldn’t take it.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe she was human and whole and well rounded, and maybe Loki hadn’t given her enough credit for being so. But she’d also participated in the local vilification of him since the day he’d stepped onto the scene and dared to take up space they had tried to keep for themselves.</p><p> </p><p>However nice she was to him now, in private, with no witnesses, she was bound to use it against him. If he let her close, she’d use it to tear him down.</p><p> </p><p>She’d helped built who he was today. She could live with the fucking consequences.</p><p> </p><p>”I’d rather jump off this cliff, quite frankly,” he told her, and relished in the way her expression instantly shifted.<br/>
<br/>
He offered her a smile, as bright as it was cutting, and turned on his heel, walking home as fast as he could while remaining dignified.</p><p> </p><p>When Mia’s Mom returned home with her husband that day, their dog had been dyed green with temporary dye.<br/>
<br/>
Despite numerous cameras surrounding their property, the culprit was never found.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>xii</p><p>For the most part, Loki didn’t think much about the way all the attention he garnered would affect those around him.</p><p> </p><p>Part of it was that he simply didn’t keep that many people close anymore. And most of them were friends like Amora who appreciated what he was doing for the fuck-you and the good time that it was. Another was that he simply didn’t think it was something anyone else should be worrying about.</p><p> </p><p>He had clearly underestimated the way a mother can make every single thing her child does about her.</p><p> </p><p>”Really, darling,” she had said one day, sipping on the tea that functioned as an excuse for them to get together. ”Don’t you think it is time you settled down?”<br/>
<br/>
”I did settle down,” Loki patiently reminded her. ”Twice. I even fulfilled the ’to death do us part’ thing the second time around.”</p><p> </p><p>”You know that is not what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>He did. ”Was it not?” he asked anyway. ”Why, whatever else could you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>”Your father and I, we hear what they say about you, you know,” she gently admonished. It took everything Loki had not to roll his eyes at her. ”And while we of course know how they will make mountains of molehills, we do see that you’re a bit… out of control.” She reached out to stroke and cup his cheek. It was terribly patronizing, but Loki allowed it for a few moments, because it felt comforting too. ”You used to be such a sweet boy, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki gently clasped her hand in his and removed it from his face. ”I’m not a boy anymore,” he told her.</p><p> </p><p>”I suppose you’re not.” Frigga’s smile was rueful. ”But do you really have to keep doing that? People at the club are talking, your father and I can barely make it through dinner without someone asking about you.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki’s hackles were rising. ”Do what, exactly?”</p><p> </p><p>”Well… you’re ruining everything,” she said. ”Surely you must know that. You could have such a good thing going.”</p><p> </p><p>Loki wasn’t sure if she was naive enough to believe that was true.</p><p> </p><p>He could, however, not resist laughing out loud at the way she put it. How terribly typical of his dear mother to think he was ruining everything, just because a few duds at the club didn’t approve of his choices.</p><p> </p><p>”Is that what I’m doing? Ruining everything?” he chuckled. He tipped his head back and laughed some more. ”Well, mother. If you must know, I am having the most marvelous time, ruining everything.”</p><p> </p><p>xii</p><p>When Loki dies at the ripe old age of 79, he is buried next to Tony.</p><p> </p><p>The funeral is spectacular, arranged by his closest friends rather than his family. His parents have long since passed, but Thor is still around. As was always expected to happen, he took over the family business, and he’s settled down in England with his wife, their picket fence, their dog, and their two point five kids.</p><p> </p><p>Of course Thor knew what his younger brother got up to, but it had always seemed far removed from the sort of life he’d been living. They’d been as close as they could be, considering their differences and the very literal distance between them.</p><p> </p><p>That didn’t stop Thor from sometimes wondering about the enigma that is his brother.</p><p> </p><p>(Was? No. Is. Death hasn’t robbed Loki of his mystery.</p><p> </p><p>In a small way, Thor is grateful. Whatever secrets he may never know, it is good to feel like there are bits of Loki that will stick around, that will never change).</p><p> </p><p>When Thor got the call, he’d consented to letting Amora handle the preparations for the burial. But as he’s taking it in, he almost wonders if it was the right thing to do.</p><p> </p><p>An array of people Thor doesn’t know all get up to make some teary and overly dramatic speeches. Judging by Amora’s eye rolls, they’re just there to bask a bit in the lingering shine of Loki’s extravagant life.</p><p> </p><p>Thor doesn’t speak. He has nothing to say that Loki would have liked him to say in public.</p><p> </p><p>His coffin’s extravagant and golden, and when it will be cremated later, it will be put in an equally extravagant urn. It’s built to spin on its own foot, and when Thor will ask about that, he will be told that it is because Loki hated staying still, and this way, even death won’t force him to do so.</p><p> </p><p>The urn’s apparently been designed by Wilhelm van Vile, and Thor doesn’t know much about art, but he does know of this particular and particularly iconic artist, likened to Salvador Dali, and every bit as famous. Thor never knew that Loki knew him, but there the painter is, crying his eyes out, and he seems like one of the true grievers.</p><p> </p><p>When it will be time to fill the ashes into the urn, it won’t fit. Amora will take some and store it in a purse, a fancy designer one, and it will cause outrage, though Thor will just smile. He himself will keep some in a more traditional container, and he will silently apologize, but he does not think his wife will allow any spinning urns or purses full of ashes.</p><p> </p><p>Amora will choose a plaque to memorialize Loki. He was a great benefactor to the arts and a well known socialite, and the theatre he bought and paid for will have asked for it. And right there, below his name and dates of birth and death, it will say ”He had a marvelous time ruining everything.” It will cause a huge uproar, and a great many people will debate if it’s disrespectful, if it’s true, if he had it coming, if this is a sign of how his loved ones really saw him.</p><p> </p><p>But when Thor will see it in the newspapers, he will smile.</p><p> </p><p>”What an awful thing to put on that plaque,” his wife will say.</p><p> </p><p>Thor will shake his head. ”He’d have liked it,” he will say, ”he did love ruining everything,” and as he does, a truck will drive past their home. The whole house will shake and the container with Loki’s ashes will crack as the tremors will cause it to slide and strike a small stone figurine of a dog.</p><p> </p><p>Thor’s wife will look shocked, but Thor himself will laugh.</p><p> </p><p>”See?”</p><p> </p>
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